Earlier, when they had arrived with Judy Heamstead and her mother, the band teacher had wanted to know if he hadn’t seen Scarlett somewhere before.
She’d wanted to take Farrie and go back to the sheriff’s house right then. If word got around that they were runaway Scraggses, Scarlett knew, it would be all over. But instead Judy had grabbed Scarlett and Farrie and pushed them toward the tree. “All you have to do is sing,” the minister’s daughter told them. “Nobody’s going to know who you are, and if they do, they won’t think anything about it. My dad is in charge, anyway.”
Mr. Ravenwood was seeing that the music was returned to their proper owners. “Page three, everybody. ‘Here We Come A-Wassailing.’ From the top.”
Scarlett peered at her sheets. Judy Heamstead had just explained to her what “wassailing” meant. Scarlett had never seen the word before in her life.
All the songs for the Living Christmas Tree had been carefully chosen, as they were not supposed to sing about anything that dealt with what Mr. Junior Whitford and the rest of the committee considered to be the Real Meaning of Christmas. That was too bad, as it eliminated just about all the carols any of them had ever heard.
After running through what was left, Christmas was sort of watered down. Although the song they’d just sung, “Here We Come A-Wassailing,” was a lot better than “Frosty the Snowman” or “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town.” The same thing went for “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” She saw Farrie’s face scrunch up when Mr. Ravenwood asked them to turn to it. Kissing Santa Claus was nothing to sing about for someone whose mother had been fooling around – maybe not with Santa Claus, but a Nashville guitar player – one Christmastime.
“Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green -
Here we come a-wandering
So – faaiir – to be seen -”
Farrie’s clear voice rose over all the singers, even the Methodist and Baptist church choirs singing down in front. Farrie had a big voice for such a little girl; most people didn’t believe it until they heard her sing. Scarlett saw her sister holding the music sheets up in front of her, but she wasn’t following them, she was looking over the courthouse lawn as though expecting someone.
“Love and joy come to you
And to you, your wassail too
And God bless you and
Send you a Happy New Year -”
Scarlett couldn’t help thinking there wasn’t much for Farrie to hope for if she was looking for Sheriff Buck Grissom. They’d hardly seen him the past two days. He’d brought Scarlett some groceries, but the only one who’d really seen him for more than a brief moment at morning and night was Demon. The dog went to work with him during the day and hung around when he was doing paperwork at night or watching television in the den. Not, they all knew, that Buck was crazy about having Demon around: he’d tried to shut Demon up in the bathroom that morning so he could slip off to work. But they’d all seen what Demon had done to the bathroom door before he let her out.
“Love and joy come to you
And to your wassail, too -”
Scarlett lost her place in the music and stopped. She didn’t have the heart to tell Farrie what had happened in Sheriff Buck’s bedroom two nights ago. She didn’t understand it herself.
Scarlett knew she hadn’t exactly laid the groundwork for the sheriff’s marriage proposal, but what she’d done should have worked. After all, what did Reese Potter want with her, if not that? According to Reese and Loy Potter, it was worth Reese’s brand-new pickup truck, which they’d offered Devil Anse.
Buck Grissom was different, she knew now. In his room he’d acted as though he were feeling the same strange, exciting things as Scarlett.
Inwardly, she sighed. That kiss had opened a whole new world. Then something had happened. Right in the middle of the best part, when he was breathing hard and looking into her eyes and there seemed to be a pocket of fire about to burst right between them, Buck had pushed her out the door and locked it!
Since then he hadn’t spoken two words to her.
“All right, cut!
Scarlett leaned up against the wooden bar and rubbed her cold nose. The Living Christmas Tree was scheduled to sing every night at dusk on the courthouse lawn during the last five days before Christmas. Topmost position on the tree was going to be the Spirit of Mistletoe, who had a solo that was still to be announced. On the rest of the tree Bells and Angels stood on alternate rows, the “candles” the Angels were going to hold in their hands actually flashlights so the ever-present wind from Makim’s Mountain wouldn’t bother them.
She had to stop thinking about Buck Grissom, Scarlett told herself. Nobody wanted the sheriff to show up and hang around for the rehearsal and take them back to his house any more than she did. But it wasn’t going to happen.
Mr. Ravenwood was wagging his arms up and down. “I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.” He looked up to the tier of Angels. “You up there,” he said, pointing. “How long have you been singing contralto?”
It was a minute before Scarlett realized he meant Farrie. Heart pounding, Scarlett stuck her head through the plyboard and looked down. “She doesn’t know what that means,” she called. Neither did she.
The band teacher took off his John Deere cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Make her come down here.”
It took Farrie a moment to climb down, Scarlett right behind her. As soon as everybody found out they were Scraggses they were going to start for the sheriff’s house. Even if they had to walk the whole way.
“She has a tremendous, powerful voice,” a Bell was saying. “Little girl, where’s your mother?”
An Angel came up to stand beside them. “I think they’re the Heamsteads’ houseguests.”
The director studied Farrie. “Sing ‘I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.’” He handed her a sheet of music so she could follow the words. “Not all of it – just a couple of lines.”
Scarlett stepped back. The choirs were crowding around Farrie and she knew what was going to happen. Just as soon as her sister started to sing they would ask a lot of questions. She saw Farrie with both feet planted firmly, ready to open her mouth, and thought that she never looked more like a bushy-haired, snub-nosed pixie, her black eyes gleaming.
“I heard the bells on Christmas Day,
Their old familiar carols play -”
After the first words bystanders were exclaiming. Scarlett backed away even more. Farrie could sing, there was no doubt about that. She just had to find a way to get both of them out of there when she stopped.
Judy Heamstead had followed her. “Where are you going, Scarlett? Mr. Ravenwood’s excited about your sister’s singing. Aren’t you going to listen?”
Scarlett sidled across the courthouse lawn toward the parking lot. “I’ve heard Farrie plenty of times. Listen, are you’n your mother going home anytime soon?”
“In just a few minutes. Scarlett, what’s the matter with you?”
Scarlett shook her head and kept going.
There was no need to hang around. She shouldn’t have let Judy and her mother
